


Gamete

by agatharights



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Gender/Sexuality, Egg Laying, Mech Preg, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Other, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Pregnancy, Spark Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 04:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5953993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agatharights/pseuds/agatharights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mystery and magic of sexual reproduction occurs in Cybertronians, and one particular Helicopter is so very, very ready to have a baby. Come hell or high water, he will have a damn baby. And nothing is gonna get in his way.</p><p>A lot of inspiration and ideas come from "Lets Call The Whole Thing Off" by Teapot Tempest, seriously go read this it's amazing and way better than my goofy excuse to use babycrazy Whirl. Characters and pairings to be added as it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gamete

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Let's Call the Whole Thing Off](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2492180) by [TeapotTempest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeapotTempest/pseuds/TeapotTempest). 



> Was thinking about non-sticky interfacing and mech preg and weird alien pregnancies and re-reading Lets Call The Whole Thing Off when I basically just...really...needed to have something similar happen in IDW, especially since Cybertron seems to have gone a wee bit feral, so maybe the bots get a lil' more...biological in some aspects as well. Hence: babies.

The first recorded case of sexual reproduction among Cybertronians had occurred several months earlier. It wasn’t known to  _ be _ that, at the time, no- it was a medical file, labeled as such;

 

**Spontaneous Formation of Orbiting Spark Anomaly**

 

And it was recorded and observed in one Optimus Prime, formerly Orion Pax, shortly after his return from attempting to venture into the heart of Vector Sigma. It hadn’t necessarily been a successful adventure- he’d found that even the internal workings of Cybertron were rearranged, re-formed, strange and alien. It was hard to say what had happened, but the anomaly occured soon after, possibly as a result.

 

A week later, there were twenty-four known cases, and a contagious vector had been established.

 

Two weeks, and the condition was re-named and reclassified on a daily basis as more and more information came to light. Tiny specks of light orbiting through the corona of a bot’s spark- usually just one, sometimes more, doing nothing more than..existing. Siphoning off a negligible percentage of energy, nothing more than enough to keep itself burning, small as it was, but growing at a steady rate. It spread through interfacing, but only through spark-connections, not hardlining or wiring. It seemed to only affect bots who’d interacted with the “infected” multiple times, after passively carrying? It was a mystery. Phrases like cyber-virus and parasites were tossed around, energy creatures or nano-scraplets mentioned!

 

Mecha were scared. Didn’t stop them from interfacing, though, despite medics ready to start pulling off their own helms from the stress of diagnosis.

 

The condition resolved itself, sometimes. The tiny orbiting  _ thing _ would be re-absorbed, or burn out into nothing for no reason. Lucky for them, they supposed, but it still left the rest of the people concerned. It didn’t seem to have any negative effects- but there was waiting. Nothing yet, but eyes were on the first to exhibit the condition, waiting for any warning signs.

 

The warning signs didn’t come. Instead, understanding did, and theories, and thoughts, and a whole new forum to consider.

 

It wasn’t until a month and a half had passed that Wheeljack scanned his own chassis again, measuring the growth of the “spark anomaly” by the hour, and made the finishing touches onto the updated information they had regarding the condition. It was renamed one final time;

 

**Pregnancy**

 

The term was adopted from organic life-forms, and it had made half the scientists who accepted it cringe, and the other half make thoughtful little noises. So Vector Sigma was no longer going to put out sparks, no longer would Cybertron itself be seeded, producing sparks and protoforms to be harvested. The moon would endure a similar fate, lifeless and quiet, for now. And for now, Cybertronians were wondering and fretting and a fair portion of the population was starting to touch and pet their chests to try and soothe the faint feeling of energy discharge inside their chassis. For a little while, at least...things were calm. At least things weren’t going wrong! And how could new protoforms be a bad thing?

 

As it turned out, these newsparks, said to be “kindled”, were not at all like those forged, nor those constructed.

* * *

 

While Cybertron was busy being turned on it’s head in a frantic flurry of attempting to understand what to do, how to handle these new lives, mechs wrote essays and informative guides and medics tried to catch up with all the new information coming to light.

 

And quite a ways away but _ already _ too close...

 

The Lost Light celebrated its first birth, and First Aid lay exhausted on a berth, his chassis components transforming back together as the warm, soft oval was placed in his hands. Velocity called it an egg, at first, before First Aid reminded her the plates would open up and- there it was. Rodimus attempted to insist it was his right as Captain to name the new little thing- Megatron used his right as Co-Captain to void that right, and Ultra Magnus dutifully added a temporary designation to the crew roster and worried, inwardly, about all the trouble this would cause. He’d been around organics enough to see what particular kind of madness reproduction caused.

 

First Aid’s little “Weld” didn’t get long in the spotlight, though.

 

The following three emergences occurred in short order, also from those who had returned to the Lost Light from Cybertron. Sunstreaker produced a pair- proper twins, their little half-formed bodies still sharing a protective shell, although according to the medics they’d separate once they had their own proto-armor starting to form. Bob produced a litter of six, tiny and round and unfurling from their ‘eggs’ only to stare around with yellow eyes and then chitter and roll back up, their insecticon carrier protectively covering them. Then there was Mirage, who...well, the moment his newspark emerged he was back on his feet, taking the little thing into arms and retreating to his quarters to avoid the stares and questions they were all getting.

 

Ultra Magnus drafted up a potential “No Breeding Permitted without Express Authorization” set of rules, before he realized it was pointless, and he simply instead prepared for the Pit to break loose on the ship, writing up a skeleton set of rules to protect the little newsparks.

 

Hell did break loose, though. Not as poorly as it could have, but it certainly could have gone better. It was all anyone could do to keep track of who had accidentally passed on the capabilities to the next mech, who was a carrier of this capability and who could pass it on. Swerve and Bluestreak kept a chart, mostly for betting purposes, and the medics had their own for more professional use, so it wasn’t particularly surprising that some mechs were keeping track on their own.

 

Maybe more surprising was exactly who it was.

 

“This is...an extensive list. How long have you been working on this?” Rung sounded impressed because, simply, he was! Pouring over the datapad that had been handed to him. It contained virtually all of the accumulated information on this new form of reproduction, but more impressively was the fact that it contained a very personal plan.

 

Whirl bobbed his helm nervously and clicked his claws together. “Bout a month? Since a lil’ before Mirage’s bitlet got officially introduced.”

 

Whirl  _ had _ been quite interested in the newsparks...and they were fascinating, in a lot of ways. Rung could appreciate that, even if this felt like almost too much new information for him to take in after so long. Whirl had always shown surprising skill and knowledge when it came to newsparks and protoforms- Rung had never heard it said out loud, but he wouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest if Whirl had, at one time, aimed to be a proto batch-initiator, or a harvesting caretaker.

 

“Whirl, you realize that by all accounts, this process is considered to be incredibly stressful both in a physical and mental capacity. I’d like to schedule several appointments to discuss this plan, just to ease my own concerns.”

 

“C’mon, doc! What concerns!” Whirl tried to act casual, leaning back on the couch best he could. It did not look casual. It looked...incredibly awkward and tense. “...okay, I’m not an idiot, I get that a lotta bots wouldn’t trust me to hold a grenade, much less a protoform-”

 

“Those two things are hardly comparable-”

 

“-but I really just...look, just read the plan over, okay? S’all I’m asking you, doc.” He reached out and tapped the datapad gingerly with a claw. “...I’m no good at explaining what I want or what I need so I put it all down.”

 

Rung frowned, gently...but began to read again, falling silent. Whirl clicked his pedes on the floor and fidgeted for much of the remaining time of the appointment, answering the occasional question and offering clarification. It was a test of patience, he thought, to sit still and wait, counting ventilations.

 

“...This is very thorough. You’ve put considerable effort into creating a plan for yourself.”

 

“I’m not goin’ into this blind!” Whirl squirmed, nervous...and Rung finally, gingerly set the datapad down. “Well?”

 

“Reproduction is very new to our species, Whirl. We don’t yet understand entirely how our bodies form protoforms for these newsparks, much less how they will grow on their own. We’ve already seen that they don’t develop anywhere near as fast as forged protoforms, for all we know their development could take years, decades, centuries, are you absolutely certain that you’re willing to be attached to another life for that long?”

 

“Yes.” Whirl answered, and then mentally cursed himself out for answering a little too fast, a little too loudly. Rung pressed his lips into a thin, neutral line and tapped the datapad.

 

“It is not my intention, nor my desire, to attempt to control creation of life, Whirl. I’m wary, but...if you’re going to do this, you can expect my support.”

 

Whirl felt himself slump, slightly, with relief.

 

“I’ve made an edit, however, to your plan.” He handed the datapad back, and Whirl cautiously turned it in his claws, scrolling until he saw the single edit. “I’m afraid I won’t be contributing my CNA. On a professional level it...it’s too close to fraternization, and I wouldn’t want my judgement compromised by having a personal stake in this.”

 

“Aw.” Whirl huffed.

 

“That being said, the list of mechs you propose to potentially...what was the word you used, donate? It’s not entirely what I would have expected of you.”

 

“Yeah, well...you know I’m a lil’ too self-aware, Eyebrows.” Whirl chuckled, helplessly. “I hadda pick bots who might cancel out whatever I got going on up here. Besides, who doesn’t wanna clang Ultra Magnus?”

 

“...I don’t.”

 

“Then you are _criminally_ unimaginative, Doc.”

* * *

 

Whirl was fearless! He was a bastion of overconfidence, or at the very least of confident-to-the-point-of-stupidity and he was very much proud of that fact! So he was definitely not hiding at the moment. Definitely not hiding and biding his time and frantically going over notes again and again.

 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t interfaced on the Lost Light- there was always somebody willing to either put up with him, or throw him a plugline out of pity or curiosity or simply because he wasn’t exactly about to decline any opportunity to have a little fun, but spark-sharing...well, it was different. Some bots considered it special, everyone at least saw it as more intimate than a simple plug-and-play. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared sparks- it must’ve been in the wreckers, but frankly you took enough blows to the helm and your processor lost track of what happened when.

 

Plus, the Wreckers hadn’t bothered to put anything important into interfacing. It was just fun and a way to burn off charge after a fight. Or a way to take out frustrations when everybody was too tired to fight.

 

The prospect of sparkmerging again, this time for a _reason_ , certainly wasn’t _terrifying_ , nope.

 

_ Nope nope nope nope- _

 

“Why do you keep saying ‘nope’ to yourself?”

 

Whirl jumped half his height straight up and cursed, mostly at himself for speaking his thoughts out loud without realizing. He came back down to Brainstorm’s amused expression, the scientist patiently waiting in his doorway.

 

“Did I interrupt?”

 

“No! Yes? Doesn’t matter!” Whirl hopped foot to foot, shuffling and squirming. “I need your help. And you can’t laugh, or get angry!” He tapped Brainstorm’s chest with a claw, and the scientist squinted.

 

“....Okay?”

 

“I need safeties. For every weapon you’ve given me.”

 

Brainstorm stared. And made a plaintive, wordless sound of despair. Whirl winced and braced himself as Brainstorm’s cry escalated. This...this was just sad. It took a while to calm Brainstorm down, but soon enough he was working on modifying safety locks onto Whirl’s impressive collection and Whirl was absently tinkering with another clock.

 

“So, you’re really gonna try to bud off a spark?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Mm.” Brainstorm paused, squinting as he nudged a wire into place. “Not surprised. I mean, I figured you’d wait longer, but you always did have that thing with Protoforms. Who’re you gonna spark with?” At least Brainstorm was willing to accept the idea…

 

“Dunno. I’ve got a list, though! I figure if they pick up enough CNA from a couple’a different mechs, it might cancel out..you know...all of this.” Whirl tapped his own helm with a claw, and Brainstorm frowned- it wasn’t obvious behind his mask, but Whirl could see it. “What?”

 

“Well, if you’re gonna be tryin’ to balance on of the lil’ bits, you might wanna work on your self-esteem.” Mentally, he added ‘confidence gun’ to a list of ideas. “You have the carrying coding yet? It’s real fascinating stuff! Adds a whole new subsection to your self-diagnostic while it’s active!”

 

“...Not yet. It’s on the list. Wait, do you?” Whirl wouldn’t have expected that...but then, he supposed, it made sense. Perceptor was carrying code- Brainstorm easily could have picked it up since the last time any charts had been updated.

 

“Scientific curiosity.” Brainstorm laughed it off. “Besides, it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve done- don’t think I want to actually carry for a while, though.” He squinted, leaning in close to study a fresh weld on the rifle he had carefully tucked in his arms- a specialty thing, made to fit Whirl’s claws. “If you want, you know, I could hook you up with carrier coding.”

 

There was a clatter as Whirl dropped the clock he’d picked up, and then scrambled to put it back up on his worktable, jittery. “What? Seriously? You’d do that?!”

 

“Yes! Wait, did I answer that too fast? Doesn’t matter- point is, I wouldn’t turn down some sparkplay for the sake of science!” Brainstorm tossed the welder aside and perked up, spreading his arms wide. “Wanna go right now?!”

 

“....wow, are you always this eager?”

 

“Depends on the benefit to science! Also, I’m gonna need to link up with you while I do it. I mean, I haven’t gotten to see the coding actually implement itself firsthand yet! I hear it’s fascinating-” Brainstorm chattered away, Whirl staring, wondering if there were a way to express how dumbfounded he felt with his single optic and a gentle tilt of his helmet...before he “coughed” static and got Brainstorm’s attention again. “-it seamlessly alters the power production rate and- oh. Sorry.”

 

“You really sure you wanna, yanno...sparkplay with me? I ain’t exactly hot stuff around the ship-”

 

“Whirl, trust me.” Brainstorm stepped in close and boldly put a finger on Whirl’s optic, as if shushing a bot with a mouth. It was such a carelessly bold move that Whirl quieted, instantly, startled. “I’d grind sparks with you even if you just asked. I mean, I make the guns, yeah, but have you  _ seen  _ yourself wielding them on a shooting range? It’s enough to make a mad weapons engineer blush.”

 

Whirl gawked, and Brainstorm took the moment to drop his hand from Whirl’s head, to his cockpit, tapping on the glass and giggling softly. “...You’re serious.”

 

“As a spark attack. You wanna plug into me, or want me to plug into you? Read-only, of course, I’m not gonna dump memory into you. Personal preference.” His other hand was already drawing a slender plug from under his armor, clearly overeager.

 

“Can we at least get to a berth first?”

 

“There’s a desk right here! Also; a floor!”

 

Whirl fluffed up his plating with a mock huff, and Brainstorm relented- if mostly because he was dragged to Whirl’s berth by a rapidly overheating helicopter. Brainstorm took notes, mentally, Whirl could tell, as he began transforming his chest away. It was a complicated process, for someone with a chassis like his- his chest tilted forwards, and then began to fold open and away, the cockpit splitting apart. He didn’t open the last set of plates, a matte grey of protoform material, but it at least exposed his plugs, and Brainstorm...he could see the grin, behind the mask, making the corners of Brainstorm’s eyes crinkle.

 

“Plug into me.” Whirl tried not to let static creep into his voice, and failed. Brainstorm complied, eagerly, and they paused to exchange a small, cordial mental handshake as Brainstorm pulled up Whirl’s coding. Easy enough to read, impossible to modify without very, very specialized programming. He whined, softly, a shudder running through him. Plug-in had always left him feeling...sensitized, vulnerable, but he’d managed well enough. When was the last time he’d actually gotten a sparkmerge, though?

 

“O-ok-kay.” Brainstorm’s vocalizer glitched for a second, before he cleared his throat insistently, shifting to ensure the cord didn’t get caught as his own chest plates started to split and fold back. “You ready for this?”

 

“It’s been, uh...a long time, just so you know.” Whirl stretched out on the berth, body arched to accommodate the fins on his back. Brainstorm seemed just content to arrange himself, though, straddling over Whirl’s slender midsection, wings hiked up high in excitement. “So you don’t wanna be expecting anything terribly impressive.”

 

“Does this mean I gotta pick up the slack? Because that’s a challenge I’m up to.” Brainstorm laughed, and Whirl’s processor felt like he was spinning. He was expecting...something. Awkwardness, hesitation, wariness, and instead- Brainstorm stroked the split of his innermost chestplates with his fingertips, and they parted just a crack, showing a flicker of blue light within’. “Gimme your claw.”

 

“Wh-what?” Whirl offered up a claw, though, startling himself with his obedience, and Brainstorm took it, guiding it to that part, the very tip of a claw gently catching and sliding into the opening. “...oh.” When was the last time he’d had his claw this close to a spark and wasn’t trying to rip it out?

 

“Whirl, you okay? We can stop, I mean-” Brainstorm stroked his rotors, and Whirl realized he was shaking.

 

“No! No, just...not used to this. It’s a lot to take in.” He sighed, deep, struggling to invent deep. Brainstorm gently guided his claw, and Whirl wondered when the scientist had gotten so slagging...hot? His clawtip jumping and catching hold here and there, lightly, where locks were raised and wiring ran under the thin metal. His cooling fans roared, when he shifted his hand sideways and Brainstorm’s spark casing opened a fraction more.

 

“Oooh…”

 

“You’re not worried? Claw?” Whirl stammered.

 

“Whirl, I’ve seen how you hold a new gun...trust me, I’d put my bare-ass spark in your claws, if I had to.”

 

Static burst from Whirl’s vocalizer, and his chestplates awkwardly jerked open several inches before he consciously struggled to stop them, free claw going to his own chest. “Primus! Brainstorm, I’ve got- I’ve got an overheating warning-” He groaned when Brainstorm dipped fingers- careful scientist’s fingers with ages of fine work and fine craftsmanship under them, and a damned ancient memory flickered into his processor. His first hands-on instruction under another chronosmith, after he’d sorted through what felt like ages of downloads on their construction. And a little time set aside for other, more casual activities, learning to appreciate artisan’s hands-

 

“Oh, frag.” Brainstorm muttered, and Whirl realized his spark was laid bare. Lost in the sensation, he hadn’t even realized his plating was parted and the inner casing had irised open. “You’re gorgeous.” And he stroked that thin layer of stabilizing crystal over Whirl’s spark, making the helicopter rumble with delight.

 

“Brainstorm- Brainstorm! I need to-” Whirl tapped Brainstorm’s sparkplates, still mostly shut, driven by need. He had to show Brainstorm how much he wanted- how much he needed to touch Brainstorm’s spark and show him every last bit of appreciation he could. “Oh, yeah.” Brainstorm opened up, fully, with a moan, and Whirl positively basked in that pale blue light, feeling his own spark tug towards the exposed energy already.

 

Temptation was very strong. He was strong, hell, he could have grasped Brainstorm there, pulled him forwards and slammed their chests together- it would’ve been like the few times he’d gotten a proper fragging in the Wreckers, rough enough to send sparks flying and fast enough to feel nothing but the high of an overload, but he couldn’t. Too much of him was desperate for it to not be just...that.

 

Cautiously, he teased claw-tips into Brainstorm’s chest, tweaking wires with utmost carefulness, running a touch along the outside edge of the spark casing, hands suddenly steady and sure as they always were when he was working on a delicate project. “Sla-aag-” Brainstorm moaned as Whirl found a small crevice, a little welding scar from the process of creating a sparkchamber, and he teased it relentlessly, watching Brainstorm trying not to press his chest forwards, arching prettily as his engines rumbled.

 

“Whirl, c’mon-” Brainstorm groaned, but Whirl suddenly laughed, giddy.

 

“Not yet! Not yet, I want to see if I can-” He traced a feather-light touch of a swirling nonsense symbol over the crystal of Brainstorm’s spark, and the scientist moaned, loud and eager, his fingers reaching into Whirl’s chest to return the favor by cupping his sparkchamber, wrapping the hot little star in his chest in blissfully cool servos that squeezed and massaged. Whirl’s charge was spinning out of control, and he squirmed under Brainstorm, wishing suddenly that he had more time to enjoy this, that overload wasn’t already creeping up his spinal column like sparks up a jacob’s ladder, jumping from joint to joint.

 

“Merge? Now? _ Yes? Good _ ?” Brainstorm panted, inventing harshly, condensation forming on his faceplates from the steam escaping him.

 

Whirl nodded, and Brainstorm braced himself against Whirl’s shoulders as he bought his chest down to rest upon Whirl’s and their sparks leapt for each other. Brainstorm initiated the link, and Whirl suddenly remembered why this had been so good- why he’d missed it so much. A little plug-and-play was damn nice, a tactile overload could be fun, but a sparkmerge- oh!

 

He threw himself into it heedlessly, uncaring of what Brainstorm could have taken from his thoughts and swirling emotions, and he felt the scientist overload over him- unable to see for the sparks bursting in his vision. Brainstorm keened and cursed, and struggled to keep himself steady as Whirl’s claws pinched and tweaked the very edge of his wings, reaching around him and prolonging his overload with the careful stimulation.

 

“Whirl- frag- Whirl! You better- aah! Overload quick or I’m gonna be...needing a break-” Brainstorm struggled out, expressing the same sentiment through where their sparks met, and Whirl whimpered- no, he sobbed with relief as he let himself be overcome by his own charge. Whirl knew, for a long moment, whiteout bliss and overstimulation that made every inch of plating feel tingly and delicate.

 

Then he was back, and Brainstorm was strutless on top of him, giggling.

 

“What was -that-?!” Brainstorm yelped, realizing Whirl was back to himself, their spark casing irised shut.

 

“Uhm.” Whirl buzzed.

 

“I should’ve been ‘facing you ages ago! I- oh, slag, good thing I was recording, I was not paying attention, I should’ve been watching your coding update-” Brainstorm chattered, post-coital babbling half nonsense and half scientific curiosity as Whirl simply enjoyed feeling absolutely relieved. A quick run of his own coding told him that something had changed.

 

“Brainstorm.” He finally rumbled. “Brainstorm!”

 

“Yes?” Brainstorm let himself be interrupted.

 

“... _thank you._ ”

 

“...Welcome.” Brainstorm grinned, and leaned forwards, gently letting his forehead tap Whirl’s helm, a short little touch of comfort. Whirl buzzed with contentment...and Brainstorm stretched, wings flicking, still straddled over Whirl. “You know, it takes a few days for the coding to really sink in, but some studies suggest multiple merges can make it solidify faster.”

 

“Are...are you saying you want to go again?”

 

“Whirl, I’m just getting all charged up! I mean, I dunno if you self service, but I can already feel a couple of wires burned out- trust me, I’m ready to go again when you are.”

 

Whirl stared up, flabbergasted, stunned, any selection of phrases. He’d just had some sparkplay for the first time in Primus-Knows-How-Long and they wanted to go again? He wondered, briefly, if he was in recharge, if this were a dream, before he started to laugh and, clumsily, turned over and sent both him and Brainstorm off the berth, to the floor. Brainstorm yelped and cursed, trapped under Whirl suddenly, before realizing the Helicopter was teasing clawtips into the seams of his waist. “Oh!”

 

“Tactile first, then spark again?”

 

“Ooooho-ho! _Yes yes yes_!” Brainstorm moaned, squirming, and Whirl was thankful he knew exactly how useful his claws could be. Very, very thankful.


End file.
